


Closer

by Enchantable



Series: This One's Not Pretend [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance, Smut, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-24 23:55:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It continues with him buying her flowers and ends with them somewhere south of a relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: : I'm clawing my eyes out from that Herc+Mako sequel. Could there be a follow-up where Herc does a hell of a lot better and woos Mako properly. Pretty please and thank you!

He listens to the footsteps come in.

He listens to them walk over to her desk and then stop. He ducks his head and rubs Max behind his ears as he hears a foot lift and then return to the floor, as if unsure of what they are supposed to do. Max whines and looks down and Herc mutters an apology, scratching him harder until the footsteps march into his office. He can’t resist looking up. Mako looks confused, exasperated and amused all in one and there’s red staining her cheeks. 

"Something wrong, Miss Mori?" he asks.

"No I—" she exhales, "thank you," she says, "they’re lovely."

He leans back in his chair and she nods curtly like she’s prone to doing ad leaves. Only then does he let the smile show on his face. Real flowers are rare but pure, non genetically tampered with flowers are next to impossible to find. The calla lilies on her desk are milky white with hearts of pure violet. He leaves them sitting in a vase of water, no note, no ribbons or fanfare. Just a simple statement, unapologetic and elegant. 

It’s the first time Mako’s seen flowers since she was a little girl. 

Back at her desk she looks at the blossoms. They’re so delicate she’s almost afraid to touch them. For the moment she settles for leaning forward and filling her nose with the scent of them. Her finger snakes out and runs along the softness of the petal and a smile comes to her lips at the feel of them against her calloused fingertip. 

A part of her wants to pull the flowers off her desk and hide them, wants to make it so that no-one else can see them. She fingers the petals one more time before she sits behind the desk and wakes her computer up from sleep to begin making her way through the mess of tasks that stretch ahead of her. 

By the time the day’s done they’re both nearly cross eyed with exhaustion. Herc doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to playing with the brass. This is Stacker’s game—just barely. And even he wasn’t terribly good at it. Herc knows he’s about a million times worse. Mako has skill with it, but her newness betrays her when the brass exploits every little thing they can. 

He pushes himself up and shuts off his lamp, moving into the smaller room that makes up Mako’s office. She’s bent over the desk looking at some brief. The lights are out except for the crane lamp that is nearly level with her head. Her eyes are drooping but she wars against herself, fighting instead to stay awake and keep her eyes on the words. He frowns. He’s no stranger to hard work, neither of them are. But this is the kind of work that doesn’t have a purpose and killing yourself for it just seems wrong. 

"That’s enough for tonight Mori," he says leaning over the desk. 

She exhales in something that’s too exasperated to be a sigh but comes pretty damn close. She turns her head and looks at him sharply. Or how sharply looks when the person giving the look is functioning on little sleep. He meets her gaze steadily as he reaches out and switches off the lamp, plunging them into darkness.

He learns forward in the darkness and presses his lips to hers. It’s a warm, chaste kiss that makes him struggle between deepening the kiss or letting them both sleep. Sleep wins out and he pulls back, gently brushing their lips together once more. She pushes herself to her feet and leaves. He stands by the desk for a moment longer breathing in the smell of the flowers before he trails after her. 

They live in separate areas. He’s still in the same room, can’t really bring himself to leave. Max is curled up on his bed and doesn’t look up when he comes in. Max sleeps like a pile of rocks, always has. Herc lets him have the bottom bunk and sleeps up top. Herc strips and climbs up, dropping in to bed and into a—thankfully—dreamless sleep. 

He wakes to the sound of someone knocking on the door. 

His eyes open and he swipes a hand over his face. He climbs down the bunk but the knocking isn’t urgent so he grabs a tank and his boxers before going to answer the door. Mako is on the other side. Mako’s on the other side, her hair still mussed from sleep and she’s wearing a long dark robe that’s lined in silk the exact same shade as her hair. 

His mouth goes dry as she steps in to his room. He opens his mouth but nothing comes out because she touches his chin and leans up, gently kissing him. She slides his tongue into his mouth and he fights to hold himself steady. She still tastes like that tea Stacker drank and it makes him feel both impossibly turned on and impossibly guilty like he’s expecting his old friend to appear. 

But he doesn’t and that guilt seems to go quiet as she pushes him back and kicks the door shut. She pushes him down until he’s sitting on the bed. His mouth goes dry as she steps back and reaches to her waist, pulling open the tie of the robe. It falls open, the blue silk shining in the faint light. She’s all pale skin except for the tips of her breasts and between her legs. She holds his gaze until she reaches up. Her fingernails are long and polished a pale lavender. She touches one to her bottom lip and trails it down her throat, between her breasts and lower still. He follows it, even as she slides it between her legs. 

He jerks awake with a rough gasp. 

He’s achingly hard but the door is shut, Max is snoring and he breathes out a sigh for the little things. He hates nights like these. Mostly because he feels like a dirty, dirty old man even though Mako’s done pretty much everything short of ripping his pants off herself. She wants to have sex. He wants to have sex. But he can’t bring himself to actually do the deed with her. 

And if he does it definitely won’t involve her walking through the halls of the Shatterdome wearing nothing but a robe. 

He showers in cold water and makes his way to his office. He usually doesn’t arrive before Mako but today he does and busy himself with paperwork. He pretends not to notice Mako when she comes in, but he isn’t fooling anyone. Mako gives the crown of his head a long stare and then goes to her own work area. He knows he isn’t fooling anyone, least of all her but he holds out to the hope she’ll let it side. 

She doesn’t. 

He doesn’t expect her to, not deep down. Not really. She’s sharp as a whip and ten times as determined. Her letting him take the easy route isn’t something he expects nor is interested in. But still, times like this do tend to make it harder. It’s always hard to deny something you both want so damn badly. 

Mako comes in a moment later She’s got smudges under her eyes and Herc knows the signs of a sleepless night when he sees one. Still she’s sharp as a razor. It’s another impossibly long day but this time because it’s slow as hell. She fields several calls from reporters and he smiles at her curt tone. He wonders if they’re ever going to learn that Mako’s as impenetrable as they wanted that wall to be. 

He leans against the door and watches her for a moment as she tucks her hair behind her ear and scribbles down a note before setting down her pen. She turns and looks at him and it’s a testament to his self control that he only smiles. 

"Come on," he says, "first day we’ve been out of here on time in weeks."

"And?" she asks, already getting to her feet. 

"And that means we should celebrate," he says. 

She follows him in to the kitchen. The dinner rush has already started in the cafeteria but almost everything’s prepped. He takes her over to a table and roots around until he finds the pasta and the vegetables. Mako watches him quietly for a moment before she falls in to line and grabs the vegetables. He gives her a look she’s all too happy to return and shakes his head as they chop vegetables and set pots to simmer. She follows his lead easily. Herc always cooks from memory but it isn’t like what they’re making is anything special. She laughs and he gives her a questioning look. 

"All the pots are so big," she says lifting the lid of the pasta pot to sprinkle some salt in, "they aren’t really meant for cooking for two."

"No they aren’t," he says, "when’s the last time you were in a kitchen meant for that?"

It takes her a moment to think.

"Before the academy," she says, "even then not for very long. I don’t think we used the kitchens at all, we were never in the apartments for long enough."

"You were lucky then," he says, "unless you wanted something well done, Stacker wasn’t the man to ask."

Her smile softens at that. It’s still difficult to talk about them, about their dead and their lost. But they’re getting better. It isn’t as if not talking about them makes the tragedies never have happened. And thought it kills Herc to admit it, there are days when some things are foggy. Certain smells, the way Chuck would smile when he was real and truly happy. The shrinks say it’s a grief response, his mind’s protecting itself. Herc thinks they’re full of shit. 

When everything’s on the plates Herc sticks them on two trays. Mako carries them and together they make their way up to the top of the Shatterdome. Herc pit stops in an old storage room and takes a bottle of wine. Hong Kong at night is beautiful and the summer day makes it warm. They sit on top of the Shatterdome with the city spread out below them. They eat quietly with the sounds of the city in the distance and the water at their backs. 

"Do you miss being in a Jaeger?" Mako asks him finally.

"Every damn day," he says and takes a healthy drink, "at least I didn’t have to lie through my teeth with those enemies," he says and gives his shoulder a roll. Mako smiles, "what?" he asks cautiously.

"You always do that when you talk about Jaegers," she says nodding towards his shoulder, "you should let a medic look at it."

"Not much a medic can do for this," he says motioning to his shoulder, "I messed it up the first time on my bike and then in my first plane," he shakes his head, "it’s a miracle the damn thing works as much as it does," he looks at her, "what about you?"

"I was only a pilot for a few days," she points out.

"Yeah," he says, "but those were a hell of a few days."

She laughs.

He likes making her laugh.

He wants to blame it on the wine when she practically shoves him against the door of her room. But he’s too old to just get drunk off two glasses of wine and she’s no light weight herself. There’s no excuse, nothing they can blame it on as she pushes him to the metal and he wraps his hands around her lower back as his fingers dig in to the lock. He can’t bring himself to throw it though as he pulls his head back, pressing his face to the skin of his forearm. 

"Mako," he groans, "we—"

"Don’t," she breathes as her breath is hot against his neck.

He moves and her lips brush lightly against his neck, on the skin just underneath his jaw. 

It feels like something snaps in him and it’s been so long since that’s happened. Mako’s arms are wound around his neck and her fingers are buried in his hair as he grabs her thighs and pulls her up. She tightens her legs around him as he moves over to her bed and lays her down. She doesn’t let him up as she pulls his shirt open and he shrugs it off. The bra she’s wearing is simple and he kisses the swells of her breasts as she undoes his belt and he pulls apart the clasp of her skirt. 

She bites her lip as he kisses her lower stomach, his thumbs edging her panties and she chokes back a sound. He exhales, letting her breath against her skin. 

"Don’t hold back on my account," he says as he hooks his thumbs in to her panties.

"Hold on I’ve got—" she gasps out, one hand reaching up. 

Her fingers grope above her head and he hears the foil in her fingers. He forces himself to be slow. She’s not a virgin, of that he’s sure. But he sure as hell isn’t going to rush this. Their limbs tangle together as she pulls him close and he slides in, sheathing himself in her. She doesn’t hold back the sound she makes. He lets out a harsh breath as she rocks her hips up. 

He moves slow and hard and he has to fight not to stare at her. She’s uninhibited when they move together and he knows if he keeps watching her he’s going to lose it. Instead he ducks his head and kisses everywhere his lips can reach. She presses her skin up into his mouth and wraps her arms around him. She tightens as her breath gets lighter and their rhythm falters. He pushes harder, one hand gripping the rail as he drives her over the edge and follows moments later. 

They lay there pressed together, breathing unsteadily. They’re still joined together and he can’t bring himself to move as Mako’s hands press to his sweat dampened back. He can’t remember the last time he didn’t want to move. He doesn’t want to crush her though. He forces himself to move but he doesn’t get very far as she pulls him down. 

"I should go back," he says even as he pulls her closer to him.

"Five minutes," she says.

The last thing he’s aware of before her alarm goes off is how nice it feels to have her steady breathing on his skin.


End file.
